New York City
by Mockingtale
Summary: 'Once upon a time, sirens wailed loudly as cars burned the frost on the boulevards, and the both of them stood there. Lost.' Entering his apartment, Kaito sees the ghost of his long-missing girlfriend, smiling. -Christmas fic- KaitoXMiku


**New York City**

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><p><em>Will you still love me when I shine,<em>

_From words but not from beauty?_

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><p>It fell noiselessly from the sky.<p>

Fluffs of white powder that clung to coats like glitter, melting icicles on eyelashes and pattering against rosy, wind-bitten cheeks. Sounds swelled, moved with the beating lights into a cacophony of soundless music, a clanging opera. A beat, a pulse, a silence both loud and clear.

_Can you feel it?_

Was that not what she had once said? Red and yellow lights blinking about her in a frenzied swirl as they wove into the teal color of her flyaway hair. Once upon a time, sirens wailed loudly as cars burned the frost on the boulevards, and the both of them stood there. Lost.

But that was an eternity ago.

He tugged his scarf over his nose, fast fingers clumsily fumbling with the thick wool while an arm hugged his damp paper bags to his chest. His gloves made the chore harder, and eventually, he decided to forsake the white muffler and concerned himself with his groceries instead.

Stumbling around, seeking balance from his burgeoning mess of brown bags, he finally found relief on a dry stone marker. Slamming the bags down, Kaito slumped over, sighing‒ tired. White mist from his mouth dazed in the air before dissolving away, and he watched as it gave way to the blaring lights and monolithic buildings of New York City.

Everything about the city was loud. Seven years ago, he had traveled with her, all the way from Okinawa to this place. They had stood there, between 7th Avenue and 42nd Street, breathing. Shocked. The city screamed and burst with a riot of color as crowds rushed past them without acknowledgement, murmurs, yells bleeding into the brightness of it all. The world seemed to change every second, ignoring them with a determined zeal as it barrelled towards everywhere. "Kaito," she had whispered, even as the world thundered around them. Her hand was small in his, and he looked up from his map, frazzled. Cars honked and zoomed down the avenue, and he forced himself to plaster a smile on his face.

As he stumbled about in front of his apartment's door, melted sleet fell from his shoes and he stomped them, pushing past his door and into the chilliness of his dim apartment. Stingy warmth pushed the cold away from his nose and face and he sniffled, gloved fingers rubbing his nose while his lungs breathed in the suddenly stagnant air. The paper bags were dumped on the kitchen counter before he turned, shedding his coat carelessly and‒

City lights, floating into the room. It was still dark, the furniture only throwing larger and deeper shadows, but the distant lights ghosted in, and paled over her form.

She smiled.

He drew in breath.

_the phone at his ear, ringing, ringing ringing. A dead beep, and he opened a text window and typed, 'where are you?'_

She was wearing her favourite jade green coat, a thick, rich forest green that he knew she had worked extra shifts for. Her hair was down, soft teal tendrils weaving messily around her scarf and down her shoulders, framing her fair face. She was smiling softly, that gentle way, like trees swaying in the park back at Okinawa. But still, the city lights shone through her, and he could see her paleness then, the way she shimmered─ translucent.

Like stars, New York City glittered through her, and all he could do was stare, and breathe.

He pushed through, legs forcing through the thickness, like a dream, or the bottom of an ocean. She merely said nothing, continued to smile up at him, but she was so translucent, a brief hologram, and for some reason, he thought that if he reached out, just extended his trembling arms─ she would vanish.

How long had they known each other? Once upon a time, a girl and boy frollicked in the summer grass in Okinawa. Their houses were right next to each other, and so they attended the same school and even the same class. The girl liked art, and the boy liked history, and so they lay there, the grass blades tickling their necks and poking them through the thin cotton of their uniforms, while their hair mingled in daylight, and they argued about green and blue.

"What are you doing there?"

Her voice jolted him out of his thoughts, and once again, there was that small niggling thought at the back of his mind. You are not here.

_ringing ringing ringing. A dead beep. ringing ringing ringing. Another text window._

_'where are you? It's 3am. come home now!'_

But again she smiled, a wide, kind smile, and she said, "Welcome home."

_Welcome home._ Caramel voice tinged with warmth, a relief, like a current running over his shoulders. He remembered warm summer nights, droplets of perspiration hanging off the short ends of his hair as he lugged himself back home after the midnight shift. She had always waited up for him.

Miku was sitting on the purple couch, wispy, a flickering image perceived through deep water and glass. In the apartment, the air chilled to the temperature of frost, and so did his sense of rationality dissipate into a dazed, disbelieving kind of shock as his long-gone girlfriend─ not so quite corporeal, patted the spot next to her and continued looking out the window.

So Kaito did the only thing he could do. He sat down, and watched red and yellow lights beat in like stars through the window glass and through her. They sat close enough to touch, but he did not. He just stared.

Unbidden, grief came, the detached disbelief that came with crushing denial. The tumult of emotions clotted his throat and strangled him, as his vision became strangely blurry and his cheeks became strangely wet. In that cold, dim apartment, three years ago, he had taken down every photo and every memory of her, while outside, the police sirens died down. Now, gazing at her profile as she looked out peacefully into the New York City night, he remembered her teal hair mingling with his blue— and that seven years ago between 7th Avenue and 42nd Street, when her hand was in his.

"Where did you go?", he asked her, voice raspy and soft. She did not respond. Like an old film on loop, she merely continued smiling and watching the city outside.

When they had turned eighteen, the girl and boy decided to travel to New York City to study the arts, as they had always dreamed of. They both went to NYU, even though the girl could barely speak English. They lived with the language barrier by working odd jobs around the city. The girl was soft-spoken and sweet, while the boy was quiet but mature. They didn't have much, but they lived in a small apartment overlooking a boulevard, and that was enough.

Unfortunately, times got harder, and so the boy worked longer shifts down by a small office, and he always came home late, when dinner had cooled and the bus services had long ended. The girl always waited up for him, smiling, never demanding much even when he worked longer, left earlier and returned later. As red and yellow lights beat down into the city streets, she drifted further and further, lonely.

Until one day, she drifted off so far, it seemed she never returned.

_"I'm here to make a police report." He did not know he was shaking. He did not know he was on the verge of crying._

_"I see. What kind?"_

_He struggled to keep down the panic and pain, his phone nearly cracking in his hand as he swallowed and answered, "A missing persons report."_

Snow frosted on the glass, leaving a skin of ice crystals and patterns. Beyond buildings, a lone Christmas tree twinkled, even though cars swarmed it and left grey smoke in its leaves. Miku still watched the outside, still as an old movie, a real as a hologram. She never looked at him, not once, and so he tried to content with sitting next to a memory.

But still…

"I miss you."

His voice caught at the end. Kaito wished that if only, _if only,_ he could have said sorry. If he could have apologised for leaving her alone for too long those many years ago. _Sorry._ For everything. Sometimes, he goes back to that seven years ago, and wished he could have held her hand tighter. Sometimes he wished he had actually told her not to be scared, because he would always be there. Because once upon a time, sirens wailed loudly as cars burned the frost on the boulevards, and the both of them stood there. Lost. She had curled into him, scared, while he stared intently at a map in a city that devoured them.

Miku did not respond, the movie reel continued playing, translucent and pale.

Kaito breathed in deeply, and slowly, laid back against the sofa. He closed his eyes and let the city suffuse into him, and her quiet, non-existent presence resonate by his side.

"I know," she said softly, a sign that for a brief moment, no matter how temporary, she did _exist_, not as a movie reel, but as her─ a ghost.

Kaito chuckled. A tired, almost bitter chuckle, the wretched taste on his lips. "Are you a ghost?" he asked, "A ghost of Christmas past, perhaps?"

A brief silence, the cold surging into the room with renewed vigor. He waited longer. No answer, just the chill of a dim apartment and a ghost of a girl long gone.

He did not open his eyes, but instead brought his hands slowly to his face... and let the dam break. Sobbing into his freezing hands, Kaito allowed himself to choke on three years of anguish for a few minutes, before swallowing it back down. Outside, the city hummed, red and yellow flashing, twinkling. He breathed in, letting the chill fill him and pool into his lungs, before expelling it all out.

Tired. He was so tired. But still, he took a deep breath and in that dim apartment with the lights still out, he watched the beat of New York City together with her.

Once upon a time, a boy and a girl fell in love. They traveled to a different country to achieve their dreams together. When they landed, they got lost, in a city that swept them away. Once upon a time though, as they stood in the middle between 7th Avenue and 42nd Street, the boy finally put away his map and smiled at the girl. They were both scared, but he knew they would make it, somehow.

Kaito smiled. A soft, gentle and sad smile.

Once upon a time, their story met a strange ending. Like a fairytale in a city of glimmer, it sparkled out.

But still...

"Merry Christmas, Miku."

Still, in the end, as the snow fell, he couldn't help remember being back at Okinawa, when they were young without worry. Her teal hair was long, and sometimes tickled his nose. She had a strange, tinkling laugh, and a way of making him feel brave even when he was scared beyond measure. Every time, especially while they were standing between 7th Avenue and 42nd Street. Lost. In the end, amongst such chaos and bright, blaring lights─ well, perhaps they had never quite found the way back.

The ghost next to him turned and smiled. There was a brief pressure on his cheek, a flutter of wind, like a breeze─ or a kiss.

_"Merry Christmas, Kaito."_

When he turned to look back at her, the red and yellow lights blinked into his apartment, like stars.

And she was already gone.

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><p><em>Where have you been? Where did you go?<em>

_Those summer nights seem long ago,_

_And so is the girl you used to call,_

_The Queen of New York City._

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><p><strong>Old Money © <strong>_Lana Del Rey, Ultraviolence_

**New York City** © _Mockingtale_

**A/N: Wow, I wrote that in a rush. I may rewrite this one day. Still, MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS!**


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